Thursday, June 18, 2009

Don't Call It A Comeback




Hi, it's me. Fatty Fatso McFatterson.

You remember me. I'm the guy that barely fits into clothes that double as pup tents. I'm the guy that doesn't take his shirt off at the beach out of fear some near-sighted paparazzo will mistake me for a topless Rosie O'Donnell. I'm the guy with more stretch marks than Kate Gosselin and more chins than a Chinese phone book. You know exactly who I am. I'm the guy you tried to kill.

But it didn't work did it? It never does. Oh sure, you lost a few pounds and actually made some "life changes," but at the end of the day, what do you have to show for it? A blog that was good for a few chuckles and the same sweaty, fat ass you've always had – plus a few pounds. When will you fatties learn to leave fat enough alone? How many times do we have to go through this before you give up? Surely you and I have enough history together for you to realize I cannot be defeated and I always come back. With a vengeance.

It was about this time last year when it all fell apart for you. Maybe it was the heat. Maybe the economy and the Great Recession and trying to eke out a living got in the way. Maybe you just got cocky, thinking you had this thing beat and you could put your feet up for a while.

Please...

I always comes back. In fact, I was never gone. I'm always here, just below the surface, fighting to be let out. They say "once an alcoholic, always an alcoholic." Well, it's the same thing for fatties. But what makes it even more deliciously evil is fat people still have to eat. Imagine a drunk having to drink a couple of cocktails a day – but that's it. It'd be damn hard to stay on the wagon. Which is why you'll never, ever be able to get rid of me.

But I know you. Probably better than you know yourself. And there's something bubbling down below and it's not that Mexican appetizer platter you just destroyed. You're thinking of getting back in the game aren't you? You're going to give this another go. But this time will be different, right? This time you'll take it off and keep it off. This time you'll win.

Right...

Well saddle up fatty (if they make one big enough for ya) and let's do this thing. I look forward to the competition. But when you look up six months, a year, hell even five years from now, fatter than you are today, don't say I didn't warn you.